


Eternal Contracts Kinda Suck

by OverMyFreckledBody



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (actually to Angel but whatever), (kind of?), Buffy the Vampire Slayer References, Light Angst, M/M, What Have I Done, fluffy in its own way, ghost character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 23:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5025553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean died a while ago and the fact that he's the one leading them around Wolfram and Hart is a little bothersome to Marco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eternal Contracts Kinda Suck

**Author's Note:**

> For Snkartists' big bang project, I got partnered up with Kat-ivelios! She is very nice and her art is very, very good, like holy shit.
> 
> Just wow
> 
> [Here](http://kat-ivelios.tumblr.com/post/131431633599/huh-it-was-so-much-fun-to-cooperate-with) is her side!!

This place wasn’t guarded too awfully well. Sure, it might have been because they didn’t expect the gang to put up much of a fight and just be corrupted, but from Wolfram and Hart, Marco expected a little more. After all, on his way over to their archives, he had gotten through by the vents and only had to punch one guy out- two if you count that first one. He was Marco’s _guide_ , so the only _guard_ he had found was the one that he had just sent to the floor. He’d be gone by the time he got up again. Time to find what he was really looking for.

 

 _Jesus_. The archives were _huge_. There were rows upon rows of filing cabinets, likely filled to the brim with files. The rows seemed to go on forever. If he wasn’t careful, he’d spend too much time here and end up getting attention drawn to him. He had to be quick; get in, burn the file, and be out.

 

He glanced at the nearest cabinet and took a deep breath. They were names, thank god. Now, all he had to do was fine the _K_ section…

 

_B_

_F_

 

He touched each one as he passed, as if reminding him that he checked the names of that cabinet already.

 

_H_

_H_

 

There were a lot of _H_ ’s.

 

_J_

_K_

 

There. That was what he was looking for. Opening the damned drawer, a voice spoke up behind him, soft and silky, so unlike the times he had heard it alive, so unlike its owner. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

  
Though he knew who it was, Marco sucked in a breath and looked up to see his dead lover, still there, but not alive. _Jean_. He didn’t run forward, he just watched as the male smirked, cocking out a hip and leaning against another row.

  
Besides, it wasn’t the first time he had seen the other after he had the blood sucked out of him like he was a milk carton with a bendy straw. Well, the first time he was never really there. Marco was just having grief filled hallucinations that first time.

  
But he had actually seen Jean earlier that day, when they were lead into the building. Of course, then, Jean had paid him no mind aside from a simple grin that only diminished a little when talking to the others, to Eren (he was the leader of their group, the _Champion_ , but why was it that he got to be showed around by Jean?). Perhaps he was keeping it professional, perhaps he was only tormenting Marco, just as he had done when alive. (Marco didn’t tell everyone around the hotel that he had been in love with Jean, not just sleeping with him, but that wasn’t here nor there.) Perhaps he didn’t care.

 

After all, there wasn’t a lot of proof that he loved Marco back. The forgotten, signed dollar bill that had lay left on his bedsheets was something. As was the constant teasing of a crush he didn’t really have anymore. Oh, and of course, the cute, little way Jean refused to even hint that he cared for Marco in a way beyond their pleasures. Then, too, there was the thing about how he kept implying that they were doing that for information on each other, though neither of them spilled a word and Wolfram and Hart still had the hotel bugged. It wasn’t like Jean _needed_ Marco for anything.

 

Marco always supposed that Jean just stayed to watch his heart swell in self-hatred and anguish, though Marco was wonderfully great at hiding it (even if Jean could see past most of his defenses) and Jean, again, was dead.

  
The only reason he was there now, staring up at Marco with those fiery eyes of his, was because he had signed a special contract. One that forced him to stay with Wolfram and Hart past his death, delving forever into hell to continue doing his evils. One special contract that Marco had to make sure to burn.

 

His fingers itched for his lighter at the thought of it.

 

Nevertheless, he stood up, straightening his back, keeping his expression schooled and in check. Might as well play along. Jean loved games - especially the mind ones. “How’d I do?”

  
Grinning, Jean took a step forward, swaying his hips a little with each movement. “A little slower than I would have thought.” He continued to walk until he was just inches from Marco, head tilted up to watch him with the confident look he always had. “But then, you did always like to take your time.”

 

Marco looked down, away from the other, holding in his sigh, and closed his eyes, anticipating Jean’s next statement. He liked to be dramatic. However, even then, the close proximity made it hard for him to keep back a smile. He allowed his lips to twitch, just briefly, to subdue the urge.

 

“So you finally made it,” Jean started again, as Marco waited patiently, almost amused. It was cute when he got like this. “Got behind the facade - and here it is,” he waved around the room, motioning at the cabinets and especially the girl behind the desk way in the back. She didn’t raise an alarm when Marco had punched a guy out in front of her, so he didn’t pay her any heed. “Every dirty, little scheme.” He paused, waiting until Marco looked at him before continuing again, “Every secret, all that evil, great and small. Just imagine what you could accomplish with that kind of information.”

 

“You wanted me to see this.” Marco accused, but with no real pain or anger behind his statement. It was so hard to talk that way to Jean. God, he was such a fool. “You knew I’d-”

 

“James Bond your ass up here? Come on, Marco. Really, who knows you better than me?” Jean had that look in his eyes; the one where he was ready to add on the name of a person Marco really didn’t care for anymore. He glanced away from Jean and back at the files instead of letting him finish.

 

“Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think.” _Lies, lies, lies_. Jean knew Marco very well, knew every deep and dark little crevice, knew what he was doing before he did it and why, but not this time. This time was the only other time, but Jean still knew.

 

He shuffled through the papers, looking for an i on the next letter. So many _Ke_ ’s…

 

“What the hell are you doing, Marco?” He asked, voice soft, confused. Hopefully, if this worked, he wouldn’t have to hear it any longer.

 

The thought used to jolt him, made him want to cut off his fingers so he couldn’t do it himself, but he was far too used to it. Far too ready, now.

 

Aha. Upon finding the stapled papers that he needed, Marco held them up for Jean to see, “A simple standard perpetuity clause is all.”

 

Jean looked surprised to see the papers, the way his eyebrows rose and he swallowed made Marco’s heart race. He almost couldn’t do it. But he had to. For Jean. His voice was even softer than before. “You… broke in here… for my contract?”

 

Reaching into his pocket to grab the lighter, Marco stepped back and flicked it open, relishing in the small _click_ it made, “I’m here to release you from it.”

 

“Marco…” Jean started, but ended up trailing off as Marco only spun around instead of yielding. It was so hard to keep himself together. Couldn’t Jean see that? He would have before.

 

“You suffered enough,” croaked Marco, voice breaking for a moment. Before Jean could do anything else, he struck the lighter and held the flame against the paper, watching it light up. He waited until it hit midway up the sheet before he dropped it, watching the flames continue to lick their way to the top. “I just want you to find some peace…”

 

“Gallant to the end,” Jean commented, sounding still a little shocked, but placed a cold hand on Marco’s shoulder, attempting to turn him around. Marco didn’t follow the action. “I knew what I signed up for, you know.”

 

“It’s done,” answered Marco, voice dead and firm. Jean would be gone soon. He didn’t want to look. He couldn’t just watch him shimmer away.

 

“Look inside the drawer,” Jean called over his shoulder after a moment, hand gently resting on Marco’s arm. It took all the willpower he had inside not to flinch from the relatively soothing action. It would probably be the last time he received it.

 

Doing as told, Marco pulled out another contract, one that wasn’t there before, an exact replica of Jean’s contract. Turning back to Jean, he wordlessly asked, confused, how it could be. Biting his lip, Jean’s voice was quiet when he whispered, “Flames wouldn’t be eternal if they actually consumed anything.” Marco didn’t want to hear his voice like that. Pitying, almost care. It showed on his face - the defeat, the pain, the hurt he was feeling. He didn’t stop it.

 

Tilting his head, Jean continued to stare at him, eyes mirroring only a fraction of what Marco’s sagging shoulders proved, “But it means something that you tried.” _To me_ , Marco added in his head, though it only worsened the blow. Jean looked down, at the cement below them and dropped his hand, letting it fall to his side. Even his smile, arrogant and in control, always there, fell too.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> also i forgot to mention im a horrible person yeah okay


End file.
